("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: rachael.txt (MMF, rp, v, intr, preg) Authors name: ErosWriterXXX (eroswriterxxx@aol.com) Story title : Ravishment of Rachel -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2003. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Ravishment of Rachel (MMF, rp, v, intr, preg) by ErosWriterXXX (eroswriterxxx@aol.com) *** In the ante-bellum South a beautiful young Mulatta suffers ravishment at the hands of a cruel master and his guests. *** Disclaimer: This story should not be read by minors or if it is illegal to do so in your area. This story is a work of erotic fiction and fantasy and is not meant to endorse or condone human slavery or non-consensual sex. Nor is it meant to be a realistic depiction of the act of rape. If you don't like to read about these things, then don't read it. Comments welcome, flame ignored. Do not post on any pay sites. Copyright by author. *** Rachel Coleman stared out the bay window in the dining room of the Harris mansion watching the road that led from the train station. Even though it was relatively cool in Virginia for a late summer's day, the house servants were working up a sweat, all a bustle with final preparations for the arrival of master Harris and his dinner guests. Harris had put Rachel in charge of overseeing that the house was ready for his business "soiree" as he put it. Rachel had just turned eighteen but the pretty petite Mulatta had supervised formal social occasions for years for her previous mistress, the late Miss Coleman. The spinster Miss Coleman had been very fond of her late brother's only offspring, the fruit of his union with a beautiful dark skinned African slave girl. Sadly, Rachel's mother died giving her birth. Not long after that her father was killed when he was thrown from his prize thoroughbred when the horse was spooked by a rattlesnake, his head smashed against a rock. But in a way, her father's death was the making of Rachel. Having died young, her father had not yet married. So, unlike in many other Southern aristocratic homes, where the master had two families and one jealous wife, the spinster Miss Coleman was presented with no obstacles to raising her brother's pretty daughter in the old family mansion. Living alone, aside from the house servants, the overseer and field hands of the estate, Miss Coleman showered her niece with affection and attention. Rumor had it that she had not only schooled the girl in etiquette but even schooled her in literature as well, teaching her how to read. Everywhere that the adventurous and worldly spinster went, Rachel accompanied her, once even journeying to England and France when she was only sixteen. The freedom that Rachel felt in those two countries where slavery was abolished had been intoxicating, despite the prejudice. But in truth, when Rachel was abroad and in public, many a white man was smitten with her charms which far surpassed that of any so-called Southern Belle. But those halcyon days had ended with the death of her beloved aunt. On her deathbed, Aunt Nellie had told Rachel not to worry, that her future was assured. She had specified in her will that Rachel was to be manumitted to freedom and that she was to receive a large inheritance from the proceeds of the sale of the plantation. Unfortunately, Rachel soon discovered, much to her dismay, that Aunt Nellie had never signed the will in the presence of a lawyer and that it was therefore completely invalid. The debts of the estate were large but were assumed by a Mr. William Harris, a distant cousin of Aunt Nellie and her only living relation outside of Rachel. As Rachel was legally still property, Mr. Harris acquired her likewise when he took over the Coleman plantation. Harris made it clear that although he and Rachel might be distantly related, she was nothing more than his property. She would stay in the house and supervise his social functions, making sure that the place settings, wine and dinner menus matched the social standing of his guests. That had been several months ago. Now Rachel busied herself supervising the last minute preparations for his soiree. She strolled from room to room making sure that the place settings in the dining room were exact, that the food preparation in the kitchen was on schedule and that only the best wines and brandies were being brought up from the cellar. At last a servant alerted her that the carriage had been spotted coming up the road. All was in place. Rachel hurried through the dining room to the main door. The house servants were already lined up in two rows flanking the door. Rachel assumed a station on the right at the end. Harris entered with four guests, a banker, a railroad president, a lawyer and a handsome young English shipper. The shipper, a Mr. John Bell produced a gift for Harris, a set of matched Navy Colt pistols. Harris accepted them graciously, giving them to a servant to put away. Then Harris led Rachel and his guests into the dining room. Midway in the meal, conversation began to take a lively turn. "So what do you value most Mr. Bell?" the lawyer inquired almost disinterestedly, "Justice or mercy?" Bell's reply was quick and sure. "Justice must be tempered by mercy, sir, or else there is no justice at all." From the end of the table, Rachel suddenly spoke. "The quality of mercy is not strained; it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath." The Englishman smiled with recognition and finished the refrain. "'It is twice bless'd; it blesseth him that gives and him that takes.' Portia's speech from Act IV of The Merchant of Venice." "Yes," Rachel nodded, smiling back, her dimples flashing. "Though justice be thy plea consider this---that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; and that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy." "So you are familiar with the works of the bard Miss Coleman?" "Oh yes, I've read...that is, I've seen most of the plays at least once...when I was in London." "Really? You know I believe William Shakespeare, though he's been dead some two and a half centuries now, still has the power to look into our very souls with his poetry and tell us more about our selves in a single evening than most of us are lucky to comprehend in a single lifetime." Rachel smiled and raised her wine glass to her lips. "If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?" "Ah yes, Shylock, from The Merchant of Venice again, Act III, scene I. You have a most remarkable memory Miss Coleman, for only having seen a play once." "It was a most memorable experience Mr. Bell." Harris snorted. "So are you married Mr. Bell?" Rachel attempted to discretely inquire, peering past the two men to her left, craning her neck ever so slightly so as to see the Englishman's face. Bell coughed. He seemed caught off guard. "Why..uh..no I'm not. Never seemed to have found the right woman I suppose. In my business it is all accounting and books, schedules and manifests, log entries, that sort of thing. Shipping takes up an inordinate amount of my time. And I must say frankly that the ladies I've met up until now seem far too preoccupied with balls, frivolities and the like. Not the finer things in life; music, literature." "And not Shakespeare?" Rachel inquired coquettishly. He grinned shyly. "No, not Shakespeare. Not at all like you Miss Coleman." "Why thank you sir." Bell was not given to impetuous acts but the wine and most of all the intelligence, beauty and charm of Miss Coleman was having a decidedly exhilarating effect upon him. He pushed his chair back and wine glass in hand, rose to exuberantly proclaim, "Gentlemen, I give you Miss Coleman, the hostess of our evening whose charm, beauty, grace and good taste are surpassed by none." Harris, almost quietly snorted, then said, "Sure, why not?" and likewise rose to his feet, glass in hand. "Miss Coleman," Harris slurred her name, casting a leer in her direction. Rachel averted her eyes from his stare, even as the other three men followed Harris's lead and rose in toast. "Miss Coleman!" they all chorused in unison. As they sat back down, Bell noticed that Rachel seemed somewhat unnerved by the toast and kept glancing at Harris. Somewhat unexpectedly she stood up and excused herself from the table. She began taking up empty plates. The Englishman was about to rise from his seat, not wishing to be seated while a lady stood. But just as she picked up her own plate Harris spoke. "That won't be necessary Rachel." Rachel gave him a puzzled look but set down the plates in a neat stack. "Then may I at least be excused?" "You certainly may not. Go stand by the window." Rachel lowered her eyes, put her plate down, turned and silently walked to the big bay window that faced the distant hills beyond the river. Long rays of the afternoon sun brought a blessed warmth to her pretty face and delicate hands that had begun to be slightly chilled by her new master's strange behavior. She gazed fondly at the horizon where the hills seemed enveloped in purple shadows. When she was a little girl this had been her favorite place to play with her dolls in the afternoon. Then those hills had held the future promise of a world beyond, a world for her. No more. Ah, if only she was far, far away from this place. Oh how she longed for freedom. "Turn around and face us girl!" A rude order. Sighing, Rachel turned toward Harris and his four dinner guests. Brilliant sunlight framed her lovely shoulder length curly black tresses. Harris smiled. "Now Rachel ... take your clothes off...slowly." What had he said? Take her clothes off? That couldn't be right. Was she to be sold to one of these men, like a field hand on the auction block? She had never been sold before. Hadn't Auntie Nell stipulated in her will that her niece was never to be sold? "Are you deaf girl? I said strip! Now! And take your sweet time about it too." Rachel's lower jaw began to tremble ever so slightly. "Please Master Harris, I..." she began, the first sign of tears welling in her eyes. "Don't give me any lip girl. Just do it. You don't want to make me go get my buggy whip now. Do you?" Rachel's eyes filled with fear. No whip had ever touched her fine soft brown skin in her entire life. She shook her head. "No...please, master. I'll..." "That is quite enough, sir," the Englishman suddenly stood up, his voice shaking with indignation. "I will not be a participant in these barbarities. If this young lady..." Harris pivoted in his chair toward the London shipper, his eyes blazing with anger. "And you sir, will hold your tongue. You are a guest in my house as well as my country. If this part of our little soiree is not to your liking you may take your leave of my house...as well as my business." The Englishman's face was beet red with rage and for an interminably long time he stared hatefully at Harris until the anger in his faced transformed into humiliated resignation. Mumbling something that sounded like "my apologies", he sat back down. Harris smiled triumphantly and sipped his brandy. "My apologies as well sir," the plantation owner said graciously, "for inadvertently leading you astray this evening. You may have been deceived by this girl's dining at my table, by her fine dress, her dignified manner of speech, not to mention her lovely light skin, into believing you were in the presence of a lady. In fact, she is my slave. And for this evening she is yours as well... our slave. Now that we've cleared that up, I think nothing further need be said on this subject. Let's enjoy this evening's entertainment and recreation." Harris turned to Rachel. "Come on Rachel, show us what we all long to see... more of that lovely light skin of yours... much more." Rachel pursed her beautiful sensuous lips. The men were all a blur to her now as tears were copiously streaming down her cheeks. Could this really be happening? Her whole body was trembling. She had never undressed in front of any man before. "Please, master," she implored one last time. "Rachel," Harris intoned softly but expectantly. All hope of reprieve gone, she cast her eyes to the floor and bit her lower lip in resignation to her fate. Slowly she reached behind to begin undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the ponderous ticking of the wall clock and Rachel's soft, pitiful sniffles. All that the four white men seated at the table were able to hear was the blood pounding in their heads and their own increasingly ragged heavy breathing. Their eyes were now transfixed upon this lovely young Mulatta beauty that was very soon going to be revealing all her secret feminine charms to further excite their lust. Rachel's fingers deftly worked their way up her back; the buttons popping free one by one. When she reached the button just below her shoulder blades she had to stop and bring her right hand around to the front and up over her shoulder. She still couldn't reach the middle buttons so she pulled the dress up toward her neck with her left hand and undid the top buttons with the right. Finally she reached the neckline and the dress loosened. Slowly she pulled her left arm out of its sleeve and then her right. The top of her dress fell around her waist, exposing her white lace camisole. She glanced up at the men. Their jaws were slack, their mouths gaped open and their stares...their stares seemed to penetrate her very soul. Desperately, she searched their faces, hoping for some small token of the sympathy for her plight that the Englishman had earlier so gallantly spoke. None was there. Their vacant eyes only bespoke the same expectant lust, that of seeing a pretty light skinned black girl strip naked for their pleasure. The Englishman had at least turned his back to the proceedings and was staring at the wall clock. "Get on with it girl," Harris barked. "I said take your time, not all day." Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat and briefly tossed her head back, exposing her lovely long neck, then resumed stripping. Bending forward slightly she pushed the hoop skirt and petticoat down over her shapely hips, revealing her billowy bloomers. She paused, staring at the floor. Her camisole and bloomers were all that remained of her dignity. "Come on," Harris imperiously demanded, "take off the rest. Take it all off." Rachel trembled again as she began undoing the hooks at the back of the camisole top. As the last hook fell free, the camisole began sliding off her slender shoulders. Instinctively she clutched the camisole in front of her breasts to prevent herself being exposed. "Drop your arms," Harris ordered. "Please, master," Rachel pleaded, still sniffling. "Drop your arms girl and let us have a good long look." Obediently, Rachel dropped her arms to her side. The camisole quickly fell to the floor, exposing her naked from the waist up. "Damn!" croaked one of the guests in a hoarse, dry mouthed whisper. Rachel's tits were perfect. Full, firm and round, they defiantly stuck straight out from her chest, seemingly defying gravity. Her quarter-dollar size dark brown areolae were capped by a pair of inch long cylindrical nipples, both fully hard. The pendulum of the wall clock slowly ticked away as the men greedily devoured this sumptuous visual feast of a half naked young Mulatta, her pretty face, delicate neck and shoulders, flat stomach and firm breasts all fully exposed to view. One of the guests moaned. "Oh God, I can't stand it anymore. Please tell her to take it all off. Make her take it off, please." "Do it Rachel," Harris ordered, his own face red with lust. "But do it nice and slow. Take your little bloomers off for us real slow. We want to watch your tits dangling. And after that, step out of those shoes." Reaching behind, she ever so slowly undid the few buttons at the back of her last precious undergarment, then began inching it down over her hips and her luscious thighs. Eyes followed the garment on its descent and paused long to stare at her sparsely haired pussy mound. Rachel let the bloomers drop to the floor. After that, she easily stepped out of her loose buckle shoes. She just stood there trembling, her perfect, beautiful, brown skinned body completely naked and exposed now to the gaping stares of these four hot-blooded white men, their sinful hearts beating with ice cold lust. The stocky banker whistled long and slow. When he spoke, his voice squeaked like a rusty hinge. "Mmm-mmm. Brown sugar. How about giving us all a little taste there Harris? Your guests haven't had dessert yet you know." The railroad president chuckled in agreement. "In good time sirs, all in good time." Harris admonished. "Turn around for us Rachel, slowly of course." Tears still running down her cheeks, Rachel swallowed and slowly began turning in one place. She was as perfect from behind as she was in front. Her fine, firm, heart shaped ass was set off by her long, slender legs and the two dimples of womanhood at the bottom of her back. "Lovely," the railroad president whispered. "Stop!" Harris ordered. "Just stand right there with your pretty backside to us." Rachel was facing the window once more with the last rays of the setting sun warming her beautiful caf‚ au lait naked body. Was this the last humiliation she hoped? Would they be done with her now? Couldn't they just let her put her clothes on and leave? What had that man said, something about tasting dessert? Behind her, she heard a chair squeak against the wood floor. Steps coming toward her. "Put your hands behind your back Rachel," Harris ordered. Rachel moved her hands to the small of her back. As she did so, Harris withdrew a long pink ribbon from the side pocket of his vest and gently but securely tied her thumbs together. "Learned this from a Chinaman in California," he said demonstratively as he stepped aside to show his guests the lovely lightly bound black girl. "Damn!" said the railroad station master, "That sure is a pretty ribbon. I'd like to find that present under my tree for Christmas." Harris and the lawyer and the banker all laughed agreeably, but not the Englishman whose gaze was intent on the glass door of the wall clock, which held a reflection of Rachel's naked beauty. Guiltily transfixed, his eyes continuously and ravenously roamed up and down the reflection of the lovely girl's backside, visually consuming her hourglass figure, sexy legs and pretty derriere. "Turn around Rachel, we're going to feel you up now." Harris motioned for his guests to come forward as Rachel turned to face them. Chairs scraped as all but the Englishman got up and moved toward her. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the left. Four pairs of hands began groping her, gently but firmly squeezing her tits, pulling on her extended nipples, caressing her outer and inner thighs, grabbing her ass cheeks. Fingers probed her pussy lips and caressed her virgin hymen. The banker got down on his knees and seizing her firm young buttocks with both hands stuck his nose right in her crotch, inhaling deeply her female scent. "God, I love the smell of fresh young Mulatta pussy," he moaned. His tongue flicked out from his mouth and he pressed it firmly against Rachel's vulva, starting to lick her still closed labia from the bottom up, from fuck hole to clit. Harris was busy stroking and feeling Rachel's legs while the railroad president and lawyer each firmly cupped a tit in their hands and began gently sucking on Rachel's two-inch long nipples. Rachel kept her eyes shut. These four men molesting her were disgusting but she couldn't help but notice a pleasurable electric sensation surging through her whole body. She began to feel a certain dampness growing in the space between her legs. The four horny old white men all took turns squeezing her ass, sniffing her pussy, licking her labia, sucking her tits and caressing the silky brown skin, legs and thighs of their young Mulatta sex slave. "God, this is the finest Mulatta pussy I ever tasted," exclaimed the railroad president, whose tongue was deeply probing and lapping Rachel's virgin slit. "Hmmm. Great tits and nipples!" said the bank president as he gently nibbled on her erect nipple then engulfed and sucked a larger portion of Rachel's left tit in his mouth. Harris gave Rachel's right tit a firm squeeze and was pleased to see her wince, close her eyes and turn her head to the left. "I think its time to try dessert boys," Harris leered as he produced a red velvet tasseled cushion from a wooden box. Turning to the Englishman he said, "Mr. Bell, since you don't seem enthused about our little soiree, you can wait outside and have a cigar. But I fully expect you to participate in the second half of our evening festivities. Otherwise I would have to assume that you are not really a man. And I only do business with men." Without even looking at him John Bell stood up and walked out the kitchen door. Harris sneered at his departure then turned his attention back to Rachel. "Kneel!" he commanded, throwing the red velvet cushion on the floor in front of her. Harris grabbed Rachel's shoulders and forced her to kneel on the cushion. He eyed the nervous young Mulatta who was breathing rapidly. "Now isn't that a pretty sight boys? Looks like she's ready to service us, I'd say, wouldn't you?" He began unbuttoning his fly. The three other men grinned and likewise began to undo the front of their trousers. Rachel's eyes widened with fear as the stiff, fully erect cocks and balls of the four horny old white men sprang into view. "Now you're going to suck us all off Rachel. Do you know what that means?" Rachel mutely shook her head in fear. Harris laughed. "Don't worry, you'll learn. Just open your mouth wide and suck on whatever's in your mouth, but don't bite. And swallow when I tell you to." With that he grabbed Rachel's hair with his left hand and forced his stiff white rod against her pretty lips with his right. Pre-cum was leaking out the tip of his dick. "Lick it girl, go ahead and lick it. Have yourself a little taste of cum. There'll be a lot more for you to taste and swallow tonight before we're through with you." Rachel slid the tip of her tongue out between her pretty African lips and flicked the opening of Harris's white dick. The pre-cum was sticky and thick and tasted salty. "Oh God," Harris moaned and pushed his dick past Rachel's lips and into her mouth. "Mmmph!" Rachel almost gagged as Harris forced the throbbing head of his prick toward the back of her throat. "Suck Rachel, suck!" The other men began chanting, "Suck, suck, suck, suck!" Protecting Harris' dick with her lips, Rachel began sucking and moving her mouth along the quivering shaft. Harris kept a firm grip on her shiny black curls as the pretty Mulatta pleasured him. "Use your tongue girl, use your tongue!" Rachel began flicking her tongue along the underside of Harris' shaft as she bobbed her head back and forth along its length. "God," Harris moaned, "You've got a natural born gift girl. Those lips of yours were just made to wrap around a white man's cock!" Harris began slowly thrusting into her mouth as she moved her head down his shaft. The very thought and feel of this pretty, bound and naked Mulatta on her knees sucking his dick was overwhelming. As Rachel's lips moved down the end of his shaft, Harris suddenly found that he couldn't contain himself any longer and exploded inside Rachel's mouth, shooting gobs of thick white cum in the back of her throat. She almost gagged as Harris pumped his seed down her throat, but she turned it to a swallow and swallowed all of his load. "Ahh, that's it you beautiful brown bitch, suck me dry, suck it all, swallow all that white hot cum. Swallow it. Oh you suck so good." When Rachel had completely sucked and swallowed the last gob of Harris' cum, he pulled out of her mouth and motioned the lawyer over to take his place. "Open wide honey," said the lawyer as he shoved his cock past Rachel's .pretty lips. Rachel sucked them all off, one at a time on her knees, with her thumbs tied behind her back. Each one took his turn shooting his load into the mouth of the young light skinned black beauty and she dutifully swallowed every drop. As the last man buttoned his trousers, Harris spoke. "Time to take her up stairs for the evening's piece de resistance, as the French would say," grabbing Rachel's right arm, he lifted her up and began walking the barefoot slave girl toward the stairs that led up to his bedroom. All eyes were riveted on the twitching of Rachel's sexy ass. Harris spoke over his shoulder to the three men in the dining room. "Tell that Englishman to come in here and wait upstairs with the rest of you. He's number two after me." Licking their lips at the thought of the pleasures that still lay ahead, the men watched Harris lead Rachel's sexy naked body slowly up the staircase till she disappeared from view. Then they went outside to fetch the Englishman. The main feature of the bedroom that struck Rachel's eyes as Harris escorted her inside, was the big brass bed against the wall. Harris walked her over to the bed and forced her to sit, then he untied her thumbs. "Lie back," he ordered, "and stretch your arms out above your head." With much trepidation, Rachel did as she was told. Now Harris secured both of Rachel's wrists securely to the brass bed with two more longer pink silk ribbons that he produced from his coat pocket. Taking off his coat and shirt, he climbed on the bed. Standing, positioned at her feet, Harris towered over her. Slowly, he unbuttoned his pants. As he dropped them his fully erect penis sprang to attention, vibrating up and down with the surge of blood flowing through it, totally excited from the sight of this pretty nubile Mulatta, helpless and bound beneath his feet and ready to be raped. Rachel's eyes widened with fear as she realized that the moment had arrived when Harris was actually going to rape her. 'Please, please don't rape me," she begged. Harris only leered and laughed. "Rachel honey, you're eighteen years old. Its high time you got deflowered. and broken in. If I had owned you from the beginning, your virginity wouldn't have lasted past fourteen. Raping you is just what we're all gonna do. We're gonna rape and fuck you for the next two days. You'll be knocked up with a brat when we're through with you, you hot little Mulatta bitch. I'm gonna enjoy watching that flat little belly of yours swell with my seed over the next nine months. Your body was just made for fucking. And now I'm gonna pop that sweet little black cherry of yours." Rachel pulled on her silk bonds to no avail. Keeping her legs pressed tightly together she began swinging her hips back and forth across the bed. But Harris was too powerful. Kneeling, he simply grabbed first her left ankle and then her right and effortlessly forced her legs apart, spreading her wide. "Mmmm-mmm." Harris licked his lips, his eyes riveted on her fully open and exposed virgin Mulatta pussy, now revealed in all its glory. Still holding her left ankle, he reached down and ran the tip of his middle finger up and down her virgin slit He held his finger to his nose and sniffed it as he would a fine cigar. Then sucked on it. "Young black virgin. Finger lickin' good." Grabbing her legs with both hands again, he spread her even wider till her legs were nearly at right angles to her little body. Keeping her legs spread with his knees, he positioned his cock at the top of her virgin slit and began rubbing the head up and down her vulva. "I've been waiting for this moment to fuck you ever since I laid eyes on you Rachel. You are one hot little Mulatta bitch. You're gonna be filled with white cock and cum for the next two days at least. And then I'm gonna fuck you every day after that. That smooth flat little belly of yours is gonna swell up with a light skinned brat real soon." With that he positioned the head of his dick over Rachel's virginal opening and pushed hard. Rachel screamed with the pain as Harris's hard white cock ruthlessly violated her, ripping open her tender young flesh. Blood spurted from her opening. He was inside! His cock was buried inside this lovely young Mulatta slave girl. He had popped her little black cherry. The blood from her torn hymen provided some lubrication as he insistently pushed his cock forward, deeper into her virgin fuck hole. God was she tight! He loved to rape helpless young Negresses and mulattos. The tight feel of a young black pussy, not yet fully wet, was incredible. He grinned as he watched the pained reactions on Rachel's face The slightest move of his cock inside her tight, hot little pussy made her grimace with pain. Deeper and deeper he thrust inside her. She just kept tossing her head from side to side with every thrust, making little noises, she kept repeating "No, no, please." Her pain and humiliation was his pleasure. But now her body began to take over from her mind and her pussy began to lubricate, facilitating the entry of his cock deeper and deeper into her vagina. He loved it. She was the best pussy he had ever had. *** John Bell coughed and glanced nervously at the banker and railroad man, who were both blowing big billowing clouds of cigar smoke as they sat in the hallway outside the master bedroom, waiting their turn with Rachel. Harris had been in there a long time. John hadn't even bothered to glance at his pocket watch. Ever since that moment of truth downstairs, when he had decided to stay and do nothing about the degradation and rape of this pretty Mulatta, nay more, to actually participate in it, time had seemed to stand still for the Englishman. Was he really going to do this? Was he actually going to participate in the gang rape of this innocent lovely young girl? The chivalrous gentleman in him told him it was all wrong, that he should go to his room, take out the two Colt Navy revolvers and kill these men. Then he would kick in the bedroom door, kill Harris and rescue this fair damsel in distress, spiriting her away to England and freedom with him. But another part of him, the darker side, realized it was impossible. He'd never make it out of the county, let alone the state of Virginia. And after all, he had never killed anyone in his life. He'd never even fired a shot. He was a coward. That was clear to him from the moment he had let Harris back him down. All because the shipping business was on the shoals of disaster and he needed the money. Deeper from within himself, from the innermost depths of his being, another even more sinister voice told him that he would never have a chance like this again, to fuck a pretty black girl, the very object of sexual desire. A chance to pleasure himself to the fullest. His face flushed with the thought of her sexy brown body writhing beneath him as he thrust deeper and deeper into her to deposit his seed. No! It was all wrong. How could he even think such a thing? He wasn't an animal like these men. If she were to give herself willingly to him that would be one thing. But to rape someone, especially Miss Coleman, that charming beauty that knew London and Paris and enjoyed Shakespeare, the girl that he not an hour ago had toasted at dinner, someone these men should be on their knees worshiping? No he would not do it. He had been raised an Englishman and a gentleman. If there was any code of chivalry left in the world, its first article was surely protection of the weak and the helpless. If ever he had needed evidence that slavery was wrong, wrong, wrong, then surely this was it. In a way he had been enslaved as well. His morals had been enslaved by Harris and men like him with chains of gold that dragged him into participation in their evil world. When he thought about it clearly, what did his business, his very life itself count for if he was to become a creature completely enslaved to the likes of William Harris? What he had to do to free himself was crystal clear. He would rescue Miss Coleman, even if it should cost him his life. A plaintive female cry, a mixture of pain, pleasure and despair burst from the bedroom, followed by a whimpering "No! Please, please, no." The two men seated across from him had immediately cocked their heads towards the door. They looked at each other and at John, lasciviously grinning and chuckling. The banker smiled and cocked an eyebrow at the Englishman. "She's a hot one all right! And you're next you lucky devil! Of course sloppy seconds are better than thirds." "Or fourths," the railroad president chimed in. John stared at the two men, trying to visualize how their faces might appear if a minnie ball from one of the Navy revolvers he had given Harris were to suddenly penetrate their besotted skulls. Smiling, he gave them his best English charm. "Perhaps you gentlemen would be so kind as to take my place? My digestion has been most disagreeable ever since dinner. The candied yams have been battling the ham and asparagus in a fierce onslaught which is now approaching its denouement. I fear I must relieve myself of both combatants post haste." The two men gaped at him in silence. "You saying you gotta use the outhouse?" the railroad president finally surmised. "Yes, that's it exactly. Would you be so kind as to point me in the proper direction?" "Down the stairs, through the kitchen and straight out the back," smirked the banker. "Thank you," John replied, rising and quickly making his way down the hall towards the stairs. "Don't hurry back," laughed the railroad owner, "More for the rest of us!" Harris was pumping Rachel fast and hard. Her pussy was hot and juicy now, her body's female sexual instincts having overruled her mind, naturally responding to the presence of Harris' cock buried up to the hilt in her sweet little black twat. She was still tossing her head back and forth and saying, "No, no, no!" but the "no's" weren't very forceful. Her intonation sounded more like she meant "Please don't stop." Harris felt young, strong and vigorous as he deeply thrust his engorged white penis repeatedly into the young Mulatta sex goddess, using Rachel's helpless little body to wantonly satisfy his own white animal lusts. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer and pumped what seemed like a gallon of his white hot seed into her steaming little pussy, splattering it deep inside close to the entrance of her virginal womb. His whole body shuddered with orgasmic release and he uttered mindless animal cries and grunts. He was nothing but an orgasmic ejaculation of semen and sperm. Finally, he subsided. Harris left his dick buried inside her pussy and just lay on top of her for a long time. Finally he slowly slipped out of her, got up, put on his trousers and opened the door to the hallway. "Where's the Englishman?" he asked. "Went to the outhouse, weak stomach," snickered the banker. "Well, no sense in waiting around for him. Let's all do her together at once." "All at one time?" said the banker, who seemed particularly puzzled by the concept, the prisoner of a limited imagination. "Sure, she'll take us all on. One of us will fuck her, while she sucks another one and works the other two with those sweet little hands of hers. Then we'll all take turns and just keep moving around till we've all had a chance to cum in her pussy and mouth at least once." "Sounds great to me" slurred the railroad president, "Let's do it!" "Harris my boy," exclaimed the lawyer, "you throw the best soiree's in the state of Virginia. No, I take that back, of the whole South! And this is the best ever. Why when she was sitting at the table this evening I had no idea that we'd all be fucking her. What a surprise!" "Yeah, especially for her!" sniggered the railroad president. They filed into the room. Rachel just lay there on the bed, her hands still tied to the bed posts, her legs splayed wide and her dark silken pussy lips open, fully exposing her juicy, wet, dripping, pink twat, freshly deflowered and leaking white driblets of her cum mixed with Harris's seed. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she saw the four white men lusting over her totally exposed and helpless beautiful brown body. "Oh God," moaned the banker, "she's ready for rape. Let's stick her real good." "I'm gonna ram it to her, all the way in," chorused the lawyer. "That baby's gonna look like me." "Hell, maybe she'll have twins, or triplets or even quintuplets and the babies will look like all of us!" the railroad president quipped as he began to take off his trousers, leering at the frightened helpless slave girl. "We're gonna fuck your brains out honey. Your pretty little black pussy will be real sore by the time we're through with you. You're gonna be crammed full of white cock and cum tonight. We're gonna make that flat brown belly of yours swell up like a balloon with a mess of light skinned babies, yes sirree! Mmmm-mmmm!" They all laughed and took their clothes off. Rachel writhed and pressed her thighs together as they began stroking their cocks. "Are you ready to be raped Rachel?" Harris asked. "No! No! Please don't rape me again! Please! I don't want to get pregnant." "You might as well face it Rachel," Harris said as he once more knelt on the bed and seized Rachel's slender ankles, spreading her even wider than before. "Pretty little mulattoes like you were made for breeding. Just be glad I'm keeping you for myself and not selling you to a whore house." With that Harris violently entered her for the second time that evening, except this time her cunt was sloppy and wet and seemed to almost eagerly accept the intrusion of his thick white baby-maker. Rachel gave another plaintive cry as her white master entered her. She felt her wrists being grabbed as the railroad president and banker placed her little hands around their members. The lawyer knelt next to her face, grabbed her gorgeous black curls and turning her head, thrust his cock past her sensuous think lips and into her mouth. "Mmmmph!" was the only sound that escaped her as her mouth was once more filled with white cock. Rachel now had a white cock in her mouth, a white cock in her pussy and a white cock in each hand. Her body seemed all motion as she frantically worked the railroad president and banker in her hands and sucked off the lawyer while Harris kept ramming her poor ravaged pretty little pussy with his thick prick, desperate to plant more of his white baby making seed close to the lovely Mulatta sex goddess' unprotected womb. She had become nothing more than a black sex slave receptacle for white cock and cum. One by one, they all took turns cumming in Rachel's mouth and pussy. They took seconds on her, then thirds and fourths. Having this beautiful bound Mulatta sex goddess at their mercy seemed to make them all into inexhaustible well springs of white hot semen. They shot load after load of cum into Rachel's ravished pussy and down her throat. She swallowed load after load of their thick sticky sperm. As if with a will of its own, her pussy repeatedly contracted, milking every white cock that entered her for every thick drop of baby making seed. She found herself desperately, mindlessly wrapping her legs around the buttocks of whoever was pumping her full at the moment, longing for deeper penetration by the white pricks. Losing all inhibitions she began shamelessly cumming in wave after wave of noisy, panting, moaning orgasm, her pussy gushing, spilling out onto the bed sheets, easing the passage of yet more white cocks inside her, helping the white hot sperm swim up her love canal toward her waiting unprotected womb. She was a beautiful brown Mulatta sex slave slut. A young black love slave destined to be ravished by white men's cocks and impregnated with white men's seed. She accepted it willingly. She loved it. She wanted more and more. She was insatiable to be filled up with light skinned babies inside of her now. She moaned loudly and long as another white cock gushed sperm inside her. She didn't know who it was this time, she no longer cared. She only knew that she wanted more and more white cock and cum inside her, to be completely used and fucked and impregnated by these horny old white men. She was an insatiable black sex slave. Bell crept up the stairs, pistols in hand. The noises from the bedroom had subsided. He walked forcefully toward the door and kicked it in. Harris and the others, just putting on their clothes jumped. Rachel, still tied to the bed, screamed. Bell leveled a pistol at Harris' chest. "No!" Rachel implored, "Please don't kill them." John took his rage filled eyes off the four naked creatures for a moment and glanced down into Rachel's tear stained face. "Rain falling from heaven? For them?" he whispered. "No...I don't know," she sobbed, "Just don't kill them." "Very well." John Bell's eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at his captives His voice quaked with rage as he spoke. "You scum owe your lives to this young lady whom you have so wrongfully humiliated and violated this night. If it were up to me I would shoot you down like the dogs that you are. Thank your lucky stars that I obey her. But if you 'gentlemen' fail to obey my every instruction, you will wake up in hell tomorrow with your stomachs filled with lead. Do you understand?" The four men nodded mutely. "Now untie her, and give her clothes back." After complying, Bell ordered the men to sit on the floor, while Rachel tied their hands and feet. "You'll never make it out of the state, Englishman. You're not only ruined financially, you're as good as dead." Harris shouted. "We'll see," Bell replied as he backed out the door with Rachel and locked it. They took two horses from the barn, saddled them and headed north into the night. Over the next several weeks, as they hid out in hidden rooms of the barns and cellars of the Underground Railroad, Bell and Rachel made passionate love all the way to Canada. By the time they arrived in England, Rachel was with child. In the spring she gave birth to a beautiful light skinned baby girl. John wasn't sure if it was his or one of Rachel's violators, but he didn't care. He loved her. And they would make many more babies besides. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 23